


The Wild Bunch

by linda92595



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linda92595/pseuds/linda92595
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old West AU. Human Castiel. The Winchester/Singer families are outlaws living on fringes of society. They rob banks and trains for a living but are careful never to kill people. Since they also give money to poor and fight the train companies who try to steal land from improvised farmers and ranchers they are also extremely popular with the common people. Marshal Frank Azazel and Pinkerton Agent Alistair Black work with train executive Matthew Crowley to track the Wild Bunch down and bring them to justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wild Bunch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the MPreg Big Bang : http://mpregbigbang.livejournal.com/

The fire was burning low and Bobby Singer groaned deep in his throat at the mere thought of getting up to scrounge more wood. Sighing he half rose from his seated position but paused when the clump of boots over the uneven terrain drew his attention. John Winchester flung a small arm load of twigs and thin branches into the fire pit then dropped into a squat beside the flickering flames. Bobby grunted settling down again. John raked the embers over the fresh wood smiling briefly when the flames caught and leapt higher. 

Silently he reached across the pit to the metal rack settled across the rough stone ring for the coffee pot nestled on the grill. Metal clanged against metal as the spout of the pot struck the side of John’s mug and he sniffed watching the rich dark brew fill the cup.

Finally John sat down, grunted a little, and then patting Bobby on the leg, “Damn, nights like these I start to feelin’ pretty old.”

Bobby uttered a thin chuckle, “I been feelin’ that way for a long time now John-boy.”

If Winchester took any offense at the nickname he didn’t show it. Sipping at his coffee he glanced at the lavender and navy of the darkening night sky. “Getting on to winter. I reckon we’d just as well head up to the high ground.”

“Reckon you’re right,” Bobby agreed amiably. “Best send the boys into town for a last minute supply run. And let Victor and Ash pick up a few hookers for the boys. Winter nights get awful cold and lonely.”

John nodded, “Yeah, tell ‘em to pick up that Benny Boy from Meg Masters’ place. The blue eyed one that Dean’s so struck on.”

With a slightly sullen glare the older man hauled himself to his feet wincing at the pins and needles running up his leg. Bobby hobbled over to the small cluster of men huddled around a second fire lounging on bed rolls. The tallest of the small group was a fit looking black man with hard eyes and a thin mustache. Glancing up he rose as the older man approached, “Something up Bobby?”

“Victor, me and John are headin’ up the hill toward high country. I want you to take Ash and Adam and head on into town for whatever last minute supplies you boys want. Also pick up some girls from Meg’s place…clean ones. Not crazy like that Ruby last year. And find that blue eyed boy that Dean’s so gone for.”

Victor grimaced at the mention of the male whore that Dean fancied, but Dean was also the boss man’s son so he kept his opinion to himself. Coming from people who had been slaves just a few short years ago he knew what it was like to be looked down on by society, hated for nothing more than who he was, and if Dean Winchester fancied a man well far be it from Victor to start a fuss. He had a good life with the Winchesters and he wasn’t going to risk it. 

Frowning Victor looked at the two younger men settled on their bedrolls, “Well you heard the man, get a move on.”

Ash stumbled to his feet then reached down a hand for the other man. Adam grunted flinching a little at Victor’s scowl. Victor was damned scary when he wanted to be, and when it came to Ash and Adam he wanted to be all the time. The three Winchester gang members quickly saddled their horses and headed for the thin gulley that led to the dirt and gravel path into town.

Sutter’s Hollow was a one street village surrounded by small farms and a couple of larger cattle ranches. The silver mines in the low foot hills of the San Gregonio Mountains had run dry a year or so ago and the only saving grace the town had was the Western Union telegraph office at the train station and Meg Master’s elaborate whorehouse next to the Crazy Horse Saloon.

The Winchester gang, minus John... whose wife Mary would have slit his throat if she found out he was consorting with Meg’s “girls” and Bobby who had a long standing affair with Ellen Harvelle since her husband Bill had died some ten years earlier, all were regular patrons at the Chimes, a former boarding house with a fine restaurant on the ground floor and more nefarious business plied upstairs.

As Victor and the two others made their way into the quiet streets of the tiny town the gas lamps dotting the street at various points began to flicker into life. At the far end of the main boulevard Victor could make out the stately two story building housing Meg’s place. 

Across the street from the Chimes was the squat wood beam building that made up the General Store. Staring at Ash and then at Adam the elder hand pulled a slip of heavy ivory colored stationary out of his pocket smoothing it flat against his denim covered thigh. Glancing at the younger men Victor heaved a sigh, “Either of you two know how to read?”

Ash puffed up smirking, “I went to school all the way through the eighth grade.” 

Rolling his eyes Victor shoved the paper at Ash, but the younger man drew back. “That’s Miss Ellen’s fancy writing. I ain’t so good at readin’ that.”

Glaring Victor grumbled, “Okay you two nitwits head on down to Meg’s place. I got to go by the doctor’s office and pick up these doctoring supplies that Miss Ellen asked for. Mind you pick clean girls and stay away from that crazy bitch Ruby.”

Adam nodded vigorously, “Yeah I still got a bite mark on my ass from that girl.”

Shooting him a withering look Victor heaved a sigh again, “I really don’t want to hear about your business, boy.”

The three parted company Victor heading down the street in the direction of Old Doc Sutter’s house and office. As his horse ambled down the street Victor considered this small town. Doctor Sutter was the grandson of the old man himself. Martin Sutter had staked the claim for the old silver mine high in the San Gregonio pass. First and thereby oldest of the four mines surrounding the tiny town. That would have been sometime thirty years ago, a time when Victor had been a younger man and a soldier fighting for the Union in the war. The time when he had first run into a young Lieutenant John Winchester, a Kansas boy fighting for the Union troops as well.

Victor himself had seen his sisters, mother and grandparents safe to Ohio before heading off to join the Union forces. He had been impressed with Winchester, his fairness to all the troops whether they were black or white, and his respect and integrity. Victor even respected his fair treatment of the Confederate prisoners of war. So it was natural that after the war ended Victor threw in with John and went back to Kansas to help him restore and run his family’s farm. 

It was a few years later when the railroad started criss-crossing the American landscape and the concept of eminent domain had robbed many families of their hard earned land that Winchester had decided he had had enough. Put off his own farm, for pennies on the dollar, John had gathered his teen-aged sons and a few local boys and set to making the Union Pacific pay for its sins. Victor had gone along and the rest was history. 

The door to Doctor Sutter’s office creaked open as it always did and Victor ducked a little as he went in even though he had a couple of inches clearance. The front room of the office was large, airy with two windows looking out at the street and a parlor-like waiting area set up with a sofa and several arm chairs arranged around the pot-bellied cast iron stove. 

At the far end of the room were a large golden oak roll-top desk and a heavily padded leather chair. At the desk was a small young woman. She glanced up at Victor smiling as he came into the room. Quickly the cowboy swept his hat off his head nodding, “Good evenin’, Miss Cassie.”

“Mr. Hendricksen,” she replied with a giggle. Victor felt his cheeks warming. He had been coming to the doctor’s office every chance he got since Doc had hired the pretty young woman but he was still reluctant to ask her out considering that he was a good fifteen years her senior. Still she was a pretty little slip of a girl and educated as well. Victor tried not to let on how much schooling he had; many white men were still offended by a black man, and former slave, who had college training. 

“I got a list from Miss Ellen here of all the doctor supplies we need for the winter.”

Standing Cassie held out a hand, “Okay let’s see what you need. Doctor Sutter put aside a box for you; we’ll go through it and make sure that everything is in order. How are Mr. and Missus Winchester?”

Victor cleared his throat feeling ill at ease even with simple social chatter, “Just fine. We’re getting’ ready to head to high country for the winter. You probably won’t be seein’ much of us ‘til the spring thaw.”

“What a shame,” Cassie said with a sigh, “You know Doc’s planning on going to visit his folks in Sacramento, so the office is gonna be closing. I guess I’ll be out of a job before too long.”

Taking a deep breath Victor crumpled the brim of his hat in his fist then smiled, “I would love it if you’d see fit to come to high country with us. I ain’t offering marriage, I know, and you’re too good a girl for me but…”

Cassie shot him a blinding grin, “Mr. Hendricksen, I’d love too.”

Ash and Adam wandered down the street from the doctor’s office to the two story building housing Meg’s Place. The Chimes had been a boarding house and restaurant when the silver mines were running full force. As the metal played out so did the miners as the men moved on to more productive claims. The old owners of the building had sold out to various others, but the house never stayed full enough to make a decent payout until Meg Masters and her “soiled doves” had shown up. 

Meg was a wily young woman who had moved from the crowded run down red light district of Sacramento to the more open spaces of the country. There were farms and ranches and the train station all of which had men looking for entertainment and a place to spend their hard earned cash. And Meg gave it to them. The girls were clean, healthy and for the most part sane. And Meg kept a clean house, the sheets washed daily in the big bathhouse out back. A cowboy could get a good meal, a hot bath and a little companionship for a moderate price. The men patronized the place in droves. Meg made money hand over fist.

Ash swept his hat off his head as he stepped through the big oak doors of the Chimes. Meg was sitting at a desk in the front parlor across from the big hard wood bar she had added in. There were already several men seated in the tall brass and brocade padded barstools, glass in hand. One of the men turned around glaring at the younger man in the doorway. Adam stepped in behind Ash eyes scanning the room. His glance passed over the cadaverous looking man wearing a dark suit seated at the bar, a black bowler hat nestled by his elbow. The lean man’s pale blue eyes settled on Adam making the young man shiver. He coughed glancing quickly away.

Besides the stranger was a smaller man, about John Winchester’s age, with pale hazel eyes that seemed to go golden yellow in the late afternoon light. The man was dressed in a non-descript pair of denim jeans and a plaid shirt covered by a brown leather vest. It was only the glint of gold pinned to the vest that captured the gang member’s attention.

Quickly Adam elbowed his companion in the side giving the two men at the bar a barely perceptible nod. Ash turned slightly keeping his gaze mostly focused on the wall, but catching both men out of the corner of his eye. He also noticed the gold badge, flinching. The smaller of the two men was a U.S. Marshal.

Ducking his head Adam gave the bar a wide berth as he headed to the desk and the young woman seated behind it. Meg glanced up as the two gang members approached. Shoving her ledger aside she waved a delicate hand at the closest table. Quickly Ash tugged a chair over settling down. 

Cocking his head at the two men behind them Adam shot her a grin, “Uhh, the boss man sent us to pick up a couple of girls and that benny boy …his son is so fond of.”

Narrowing her eyes Meg shrugged, “The girls are here. I’ve got a few picked out…”

Adam frowned, “Not that Ruby.”

Now Meg laughed, “No she wanted to go back to Sacramento anyway. I called Crowley and he had her on the last coach out. I’ve got Sarah, Madison and one other girl. But Jimmy left with Ruby, there weren’t that many of the boys around here who fancied a man. Not as much need for him. I’m sorry for…your friend, but I can’t help you.”

Adam glared. He and Dean Winchester had been friends since the younger man had been taken in by John and Mary Winchester when his mother died. There had been some muttering among town's people that John Winchester was, in fact, Adam Milligan’s father, but the mutter never got loud enough for John or the boys to take notice.

Ash also looked truly dismayed. He waved the three girls over watching as they got their bags and parcels together. Quickly Adam lead the girls out of the door and down the street toward the buckboard and horses tied in front of the saloon. Ash turned to his friend, “I ain’t gonna leave Dean with no comfort all this winter. High country gets pretty cold and lonely.”

Adam paused in settling the girls into the back of the wagon, “So whacha gonna do? You heard Meg. That Jimmy he’s so fond of is gone to Sacramento.”

“But I know another fella who bares him a strong resemblance. He might be disposed to go along.”

Without looking back Ash turned ambling down the street. At the corner he could see the buckboard and the three girls standing in a small cluster talking animatedly among themselves. All the girls at Meg’s vied for the opportunity to go to high country with the Winchester gang. John was a generous man, well known for his rough attitude and soft heart. Not to mention that Miss Mary ruled the roust with an iron fist. John made damn sure his boys treated the girls with respect. And the pay was damned good too.

Adam hurried to catch up to his friend watching curiously as Ash by-passed the saloon and livery stable heading down a side street to the two story white washed church. As the two gang members drew closer to the building they could see and hear a tall, portly, balding man in black clothes yelling at the slight figure of his younger associate. Adam pulled to a halt, but Ash brushed past him climbing the flight of stairs leading up to the porch of the grand old structure.

Father Zachariah sniffing at the two younger men, “Is there something I can do for you…gentlemen?”

Sweeping his hat off his head Ash nodded, “Uh…yes sir, padre. I come to talk at Father Cas.”

The older man frowned, “And just what business could you possibly have with Father…Castiel?”

Ash grinned drawing himself to full height although he still had to look up several inches to meet the taller man’s stormy grey eyes. “Well, padre, I reckon that’s Father Cas’s business.”

Zachariah frowned but before he could say anything the younger priest climbed the steps to the church touching Ash on the arm. The gang member turned smiling, “Ahh, Cas…I mean Father can I talk to you private-like?”

“Did you want to make a confession?”

Ash looked mildly panicked but Adam grabbed his friend by the arm and the priest by the other shoving them both towards the doors of the sanctuary. Castiel recovered first gently shaking the younger man’s hand loose then opening the doors ushering both men inside. Ash followed Castiel to the confessional under the watchful eyes of the senior priest. When Ash was seated inside the small booth with Adam standing look-out in the hall Castiel disappeared inside the other booth.

With an amused smiled the priest said gently, “Did you really want to make confession?”

“I ain’t rightly sure exactly what that means, Cas. I mean Father.”

Chuckling Castiel steepled his fingers, “Its okay, Father Zachariah is occupied elsewhere.” 

Ash nodded, “Okay. I don’t mean to be to forward Cas. But the reason I’m here is that we’re going up to high country for the winter. And well, I came to get Jimmy for Dean to have some companionship like the rest of us… exceptin’ the married folks.”

“Companionship?” Castiel said eyebrow quirked, “I guess it would be lonely up in the mountains all winter long until late spring. You all gather there, all the Winchesters?”

“Yeah, all the whole gang. It’s a great place to lay low even if it’s way up high. One road in and out, real easy to watch. Just in case the Marshal gets a notion to come after us. Not many do considering that avalanche wiped out that whole posse year before last.”

Now the priest frowned, Ash paused taking a deep breath and Castiel said, “I don’t see what that has to do with me? Is Jimmy ill or does he need counsel?”

“Well, uh…no. Jimmy up and left back to Sacramento. And there ain’t no one else that Dean takes a shine too. Except you, Cas. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

The quick intake of breath from the other booth made the younger man cringed. So Castiel was just as oblivious as Sam said he was. Then the priest coughed quietly, “You must know that I have duties here at the church. My life is not my own.”

“It could be,” Ash said quickly, “I think you look a might hard at Dean too when Miss Mary brings us all to Sunday service.”

“That is my weakness, and I try to atone for it. I try to do good works here, Ash. As much as Father Zachariah lets me.”

“No better place to do good works, Cas, than a bunch of sinners snowed in all winter.”

Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by a harsh cough from outside the confessional. Adam shifted coughing again, and then said more loudly than necessary, “Hello Father Zachariah.”

The older priest sniffed, “Don’t play games with me boy. I know the two of you are up to no good. Father Castiel I think this charade has gone on long enough. Kick these two hooligans out and return to you duties cleaning the yard.”

Rising Castiel pushed the door to the booth open. Ash shot him a rueful grin as he came around the door of the other side, “So Cas…whaddya say?”

Brushing a hand through his hair the young priest shook his head, “I cannot be anyone but who I am, Ash. I am not Jimmy.”

Ash took him by the elbow, “I’m tellin’ you Cas. You don’t have to be.”

Zachariah whirled glaring at the younger priest, “How dare you still consort with these low-lifes. If you do not cease to be so insubordinate I will cane you. Do you understand me?”

Castiel straightened as Ash reached for the Colt .45 hung low on his hip. Quickly the younger priest waved the cowboy away, “No… Ash this is God’s house, please no violence.”

Turning Castiel reached up tugging the white collar free from his shirt, “Father Zachariah I have come to realize that…”

“Be careful what you say Castiel. For so long as you are member of this organization; you will answer to me.”

“That’s where you are wrong Zachariah. I answer to God. And as far as me being a member of this ‘organization’,” the priest paused making quote marks in the air. “I hereby tender my resignation.”

“I’ll see you excommunicated,” the elder priest snapped. “Gather your personal possessions and get out. And don’t you dare take one thing that the church has provided for you.”

Once Castiel had packed his meager belongings the three men left the church heading back to the wagon where they met Victor and the four young women. Ash cast a sideways glance at the young nurse but said nothing. Victor turned jaw dropping at the sight of the younger priest.

“Oh lord, what did you two knuckleheads do now?” he said glaring at Ash and Adam. Adam flinched but Ash held up a placating hand. Before he could say anything the door to the saloon swung open and two figures stepped out. Victor turned backing away as the tall form of the Pinkerton agent and then the marshal sauntered toward the wagon. 

Reaching up Agent Black pushed his bowler hat back on his head leaning down into Victor’s face, “So just what are you boys up to this fine day?”

Victor flinched and beside him Ash’s hand crept to the gun holstered on his hip. Victor nodded his head imperceptibly, and then grasped the thick flannel shirt at Ash’s elbow holding his arm firm. Ash didn’t even flinch just stilled not looking at the older man. Shooting Alistair as patently phony smile Victor said, “Nothin’, boss. We were just picking up some supplies.”

The marshal stepped up to the wagon flipping back the canvas over the crates and barrels then he glanced at the three girls waiting to be seated on a bench wedged into the front of the wagon bed behind the driver’s seat. “Yeah, I see that…supplies.” He said drily.

Castiel walked around the wagon shoving between the Pinkerton agent and the gang members, “Is there a problem here, gentlemen? We really need to be on our way.”

Marshal Azazel frowned, “So these men are with you, Father?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied praying that the other men didn’t notice the quaver in his voice. Alistair grunted.

“So you’re consorting with whores and thieves now Priest?”

“Well, Jesus’ disciples included a prostitute, a tax collector and two men with anger issues so bad they were called the Sons of Thunder, am I any better than He?”

Victor chuckled as the three cowboys surrounded the priest. Marshal Azazel and the Pinkerton agent watched silently as the men began helping the four women onto the wagon where they seated themselves on a bench at the front end of the wagon bed right behind the drive’s bench. Carefully Castiel settled into the wagon helping load crates and barrels as the other men handed them up.

They ignored the two men standing on the sidewalk until the marshal and the agent gave up walking a short distance to the livery stable. Victor kept an eye on them but felt a wave of relief wash over him when neither man seemed inclined to saddle a horse.

Once the wagon was loaded Victor jumped into the driver’s seat while Ash took up the shotgun position. Adam followed behind on his horse leading Ash’s now pack laden horse as well. The small party headed own Main Street under the watchful eyes of the marshal and the Pinkerton agent.

&&&&&&&

The dining car of the number Nineteen car of the Union Pacific Railroad was all gleaming brass and deep red velvet. The tables were golden oak so highly polished they could be used as a mirror. The two men seated at the largest of the tables, hat in hand, looked distinctly out of place and just as uncomfortable as the man pacing beside the iron, pot-bellied stove heating the car looked in his element. 

Matthew Crowley paced the full width of the car; hands clasped together, and then turned focusing his formidable glare on the two men who had lately come into his employment, “I understand that Winchester and his gang made it to the high country? Why is that, gentlemen? That gang has been a thorn in the side of the Union Pacific Railroad for years now, and by extension they have been a thorn in my side for years now too. And I am heartily growing tired of that pain. They rob the trains; I’ve lost thousands of dollars in money and cargo to them in that time. I want it stopped. Alistair, as a Pinkerton agent it is your job to see these robber scum brought to justice, and Marshal Azazel, I thought you had a vendetta against John Winchester for so long it is almost a legend in these parts. Why are you not getting the job done? Is my money all for naught? Perhaps you can learn to live without it?”

The marshal fidgeted in his seat, not because he was intimated buy the smaller man, but because he was anxious to be away from his incessant whining. He started to offer a response to Crowley’s tirade but the Pinkerton agent interrupted. “We know exactly what you want, Crowley. We’ve all been here before. The trouble is that Winchester and his gang are right popular with the folks around these parts. They give away almost as much money as they keep. And a lot of folks aren’t too fond of the Union Pacific or, it pains me to say, you Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley snorted, “I don’t think that it pains you to say that at all Agent Black. But you’re right. Winchester plays Robin Hood very effectively, and he and his merry band of hooligans are very popular indeed.”

One of the girls from Meg’s place was hovering just outside the door to the dining car. Crowley frowned at her then motioned her forward with a terse jerk of his chin. She scrambled inside careful of the crystal highball glass and thick clear glass bottle of top-shelf scotch that the railroad tycoon kept for himself. 

“Well, sweetheart… pour me a generous helping of that fine beverage.” Crowley said snidely. The girl set the tray on the table in front of her boss pulling the crystal stopper with a loud popping sound. She smoothly tipped the decanter pouring three fingers of amber liquid into the glass.

“Uhh, Mr. Crowley, do you want water?”

Now the man shuddered, “God’s sake why darlin’? I want a drink…not a bath.”

With an impatient wave Crowley sent the girl on her way, turning he leveled a gaze at the Pinkerton agent and the lawman, “Gentlemen when that wagon heads up the hill this afternoon I want you and a posse following. Find Winchester’s hideout and get one of them back here for questioning, whatever way you can.”

“Are you sure about that boss?’ Alistair asked with a gin, almost licking his lips. Crowley shot him s look.

“Do I have to repeat myself? Listen carefully, do whatever you have to do to get Winchester out of his hidey-hole and back into town.”

&&&&&

The trip up the mountainside was rough; the wagon lurched over the narrow road, swaying in the heavy winds until Castiel thought they might be swept over the cliff plunging to their deaths below. But somehow Victor kept the buckboard on the trail and moving steadily forward. As they climbed higher the temperature dropped and the priest found that his thin black cotton shirt and trousers were wholly unsuited for the climate. Fortunately one of the girls noticed him shivering and pawed through the contents of the wagon bed until she came up with an over-sized tan colored sheep-skin lined coat. Gratefully he took it from her even though it appeared two sizes too large. 

Finally the wagon reached a fence and Victor smiled. Castiel could hear the other man’s sigh of relief as they crossed through the heavy split rails onto a more level path. Adam followed the wagon into the enclosure then pulled to a halt as Ash jumped down from the driver’s bench running behind the wagon and horse to pull the heavy gate closed. Snapping a thick iron padlock in place he then quickly clambered aboard the wagon as Victor whipped the weary horse into life again and the small group slowly moved on.

As they rounded a bend in the road the priest leaned forward. Through the fog and light rain he could see a group of buildings, all huge log structures. A barn, several corrals, some small sheds and an enormous house that looked to be three stories with thick lead glass windows and two chimneys…one on either end of the building. 

As the wagon pulled into the turn-around in front of the house Ash once again jumped down from the driver’s seat tucking his shotgun into the wagon bed before coming around to the end of the wagon. Adam was already behind the wagon lowering the gate as several men appeared from the out buildings to help unload the supplies. 

Among the men was a tall elderly man with dark skin and a care-worn face. His hair was streaked with gray but his footsteps were firm and steady. Ash grinned clapping the elderly man on the back, “Hey, Rufus did you get my girl re-shod?”

The older man sighed, “Yeah, yeah she’s in the barn. You can go see to her yourself once we get all this stuff in the storage sheds or headed to the kitchen. Miss Ellen is waitin’ for these barrels of dry goods. Especially if you want pies for dinner tonight.”

Victor wandered around to the rear of the wagon just as another older man appeared. He was shorter that both Victor and Rufus and bit more rotund with sandy colored hair and blue eyes. He frowned as he took in the four girls then his eyes widened at the sight of the priest sitting beside the young women.

Victor shuffled nervously then approached Bobby with some trepidation. Bobby was John Winchester’s official second in command although the older man left much of the day to day running of the gang to Victor. Still the younger man felt obligated to check in with the Boss.

Clearing his throat Victor motioned Bobby to the side. “Uhhh, as you can see that boy Dean’s so gone on wasn’t at Meg’s. Ash and Andy fetched the padre to keep Dean company and all.”

“And the priest understands just what kind of company he’ll be keepin’ with Dean?” Bobby asked. Victor felt his cheeks go warm. His face darkened into a scowl.

”Well, I didn’t rightly ask him that, Bobby.”

Cussing under his breath the older man swept his hat off his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, hell. You do know that them priest’s take a good deal of pride in upholdin’ their vows and such.”

Victor frowned, “Well, he’s here of his own free will. I didn’t drag him into the wagon or nothin’. Ash and Adam’s the ones that got him to come along maybe you should talk to them about it.”

“Oh hell no,” Bobby said. “I’m takin’ this decision up the chain of command.” 

Before Victor could say anything the other man was scurrying toward the barn hollering “John” at the top of his voice. Another man appeared at the wide double doors of the bar, his longish dark hair and beard touched by gray, Stetson pushed back and wiping at the sweat on his face with a bright red handkerchief. Bobby slid to a halt gesturing vigorously at the small group of people still clustered at the rear of the wagon.

John smiled nodding toward the group and Victor raised a hand in greeting. But Bobby turned glaring. “Look John, Vic brought the girls and the supplies up from town.”

“I can see that, Bobby. So what’s got your drawers in a knot?” John asked squinting in the general direction of the wagon, and it’s now debarked passengers. “It’s that boy that Dean’s so gone on.”

“No, not exactly.” Bobby said with a huff. John cast a sideways glance at the group again.

“I can see him right there.”

Finally Bobby groaned, “That’s not that Jimmy fella from Meg’s.”

“Bobby my eyesight is still pretty good. I can see the boy standin…” John trailed off biting his lower lip between his teeth, “Holy shit…is that the priest?”

Now Bobby grinned until John slapped a palm against his denim covered thigh, “What the hell did Victor do? Does he know what kidnapping a priest is gonna do to this gang? No, wait, I know Victor knows better than that; it had to be those two idiots.”

“Vic says the padre came of his own free will.”

“Yeah? We’ll what’d you say?” John snapped. Bobby poked him in the ribs grinning wider when John flinched.

“I told him I was taking the decision up the chain of command,” Bobby said with a shrug. “So what do you say?”

Stepping back John screwed his face into a grimace then took a deep breath. Whirling he charged into the house through the door Booby knew led to the kitchen. He could hear John bellowing out in the yard, “Mary!”

&&&&

Castiel helped the cowboys carry the bundles and parcels into the house. The girls took their suitcases up the stairs to a large double door at the end of the hall. The priest had been told that was the dormitory where the young ladies, except Cassie would live. It was beginning to look like the young nurse was taken with Victor in a big way. He smiled perhaps one of his last duties as an ordained priest would be to perform a wedding ceremony. It would do his heart good to fulfill that desire of theirs.

He followed the others into the house drawing to a halt at the figure perched on a stool in front of a tall shelf table dividing the great room from what he could see was the kitchen. Dean Winchester sat huddled over a ceramic mug with steam curling above it. He looked up at Castiel and froze with one of the most comical looks the priest had ever seen.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said quietly his cheeks flushing a deep crimson red. The elder Winchester son took a gulp of his coffee coughing and sputtering when the hot liquid scalded his mouth and throat. Alarmed by his gasping Castiel strode forward smacking him soundly on the back. Dean gagged raising an arm to fend off the overly aggressive pounding. 

Still coughing Dean flinched backing away from the other man. Castiel cocked his head falling quiet. Finally Dean scowled, “Uhh, Cas…I mean Father Castiel. What are you doing here?”

Without waiting for an answer the younger man whirled striding angrily across the room and kicking the door opened, “Ash you jackass! Get your dumbass red-neck tail end up here right the hell now!”

Flinging an arm in the priest’s general direction Dean glowered at his friend, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Ash cringed shooting his friend the biggest, oiliest shit-eating grin he could muster, “Uh I was thinkin’ you was gonna thank me for this in the morning.”

“Big fat chance of that. Why’d you bring him here? I don’t need spiritual comfort, dude.”

“Well, Dean that’s the thing. I figured that well, you know he was gonna give you ‘companionship’ like Jimmy always did.”

Now Dean looked pained, “Then why the hell didn’t you just bring Jimmy like always?” Dean snarled. 

Ash paled for the first time clearly taking in how angry the elder Winchester brother actually was. Finally, he shrugged, “He went back to Sacramento, with a couple of Meg’s other…you know ‘people’.”

Turning the smaller man pointed at the priest, “I explained that I came to get Jimmy to give you some ‘companionship’ and since Jimmy wasn’t there. Well, since we all know why you asked us to bring Jimmy in the first place. He agreed of his own free will.”

Dean’s face slowly darkened, “He only agreed because he has no idea what ‘companionship’ means He’s pure and holy...and you shut up about Jimmy anyhow.”

Now Castiel rolled his eyes and grasped Dean by the arm, “Dean I am not holy. I am only a man just like all of you, and I need companionship as well. As far as Jimmy and these other young ladies I understand what they are. I am not that pure.”

“Really?” Dean hissed stalking across the room to stand before the other man. With a grin he pushed Castiel back against the bar running a hand up his arm before grasping him by the neck. He leaned in. Castiel swallowed hard then the tip of his tongue slipped out running over his dry lips. 

Without notice Dean leaned down pressing his lips to the priest’s Castiel gasped as a shiver crawled down the length of his spine. For a brief moment the elder Winchester brother was elated, rejoicing in the fact that he had caused that reaction in the other man. Then his eyes popped open, widening before he shoved the priest away and stormed out of the room.

Castiel stood silently watching the other man’s departure before he raised a trembling hand to his mouth brushing his fingertips over his lips. “I don’t understand what I have done wrong?”

“You haven’t’ done anything wrong, sweetie,” a cool feminine voice said, and the priest turned quickly. He was standing in front of a beautiful middle-aged woman with laughing eyes and silky honey colored hair. He flushed and she smiled. “Don’t worry I sent Sam after his brother and as for you. Well, like I said you haven’t done anything wrong but Ash and Adam have a ‘shit-load’ of explaining to do.”

There was a concerted gasp from everyone in the room then Ash snickered, “Miss Mary cussed.”

“Miss Mary is going to do a great deal more cussing if you don’t explain yourself young man.”

Ducking his head Ash finally sighed, “Well, when I heard the Jimmy was gone. I just couldn’t leave Dean alone all winter. Besides we all know…”

Castiel cocked his head eyes sharp boring into Ash’s own eyes. The younger man paused clearly flustered, and the priest nodded, “What do we all know, Ash?”

Behind him Mary shook her head firmly and Ash’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click, “I reckon that’s for Dean to tell you, padre. Look I gotta go do somethin’ outside.” Ash stuttered. Mary shot him a smile. Wiping her hands on her apron she casually took Castiel by the arm, tugging him along in her wake. John was standing nervously in the doorway watching his wife and the younger man. Mary shot him a quick glance and the patriarch of the Winchester clan scrambled away, “Uhh Mary I gotta go…”

“Do something outside?” she queried and John blushed from the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair. “Why don’t you just go check on Dean?”

“Yes ma’am.” John said quickly. 

Once John was gone Mary firmly pushed Castiel into a chair and shoved a mug across the table. Fetching a second cup for herself she poured them both a generous cup of tea and watched as the priest ladled two heaping spoons of sugar into his mug. With a grin she rummaged through a cabinet producing a bottle of amber colored liquid and added two liberal doses to each up. 

“Brandy,” Mary whispered confidentially, “Some days around here you just need a little pick me up.”

Castiel chuckled, “Yes, after a long day of dealing with Father Zachariah I understand the feeling.”

Now Mary turned solemn on the young man seated across from her. “Father…Cas…is it? I know my husband and sons and none of them are easy men to know or love. And Dean…well, that boy is downright emotionally stunted. I don’t know if it’s because he wants so hard to follow in his father’s footsteps. Or seeing John’s bitterness at how the railroads done him? Maybe it was some failing on my part as a mother…”

“I don’t believe that, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Just Mary…honey. But let me tell you I know my sons from the bottom of my heart. And whatever Ash may have told you when he came to fetch you. Don’t believe that you’re here standing in for anyone. Okay. Jimmy was here because he bore a passing resemblance to you…and it’s not the other way around. You just remember that from the start, ‘cause you might not hear it from Dean. But it don’t mean it’s not true.”

Smiling Mary sipped her tea. Castiel sat quietly watching the woman. His own mother had died when he was very young, and he had no family except the other priests and monks at seminary and now Father Zachariah. His experience with women was limited to the contact he had at confessions. And most of those women held no interest for him. He had to admit the warmth and love that seemed to issue from Mary was very easy to fall into.

When they had finished their tea, and their chat it seemed, Mary motioned to the door leading out into the yard, “Dean is probably out in the barn with that horse of his. That’s his space to do thinking and he talks more to that animal than to any person I’ve ever seen.”

&&&&&

True to Mary’s words the priest found Dean standing in the aisle of the barn between two rows of stalls petting the enormous black head of a horse. The beast was huge, and Castiel felt a bit of trepidation staring at its sleek blue-black coat and gleaming dark eyes. But when the horse turned toward him it whinnied softly pink lips pulled back into an almost smile. Biting his lower lip between his teeth the priest stepped forward holding out a hand and the horse pushed his nose softly into Castiel’s outstretched palm. Laughing Castiel watched as the animal nipped gently at his skin.

“He likes you,” Dean said quickly a smiling tugging his lips. When he turned the light in his emerald eyes caught Castiel and held him still. “Impala is a good judge of character and he likes you.”

And while his lips couldn’t seem to form the words Dean’s eyes easily said, “I like you too.”

Castiel smiled.

“Your mother sent me out here although I don’t exactly know why. I believe that it had something to do with this man named Jimmy.”

Dean flushed, “I bet she did. Look Cas…Jimmy was a whore, plain and simple. And Ash had no right getting’ you involved in this. I know you don’t understand what you’re getting into.”

Now Castiel rolled his eyes, “I am not a child nor am I stupid, Dean. I have a fair idea of just what Jimmy was to you, what I am to you.”

Now Dean looked truly angry and for one minute Castiel was taken aback, almost frightened. Then the other man stilled and Dean shot him a pained grin, “You’re nothin’ like Jimmy, Cas. Don’t even think that and I have no right to even think that you’d want someone like me.”

“Then you’re wrong Dean. How I feel was affected by my position in the church. I am removed from that now.”

“Yeah, remind me to kick Ash’s ass later on for that.”

“That won’t be necessary. He was doing what he thought was best for you. He was giving you something he thought you needed.”

Dean frowned scrubbing a hand over his face. He turned away brushing his fingers through his horse’s mane, “Yeah but he didn’t have a right to drag you down into all this. I don’t…I’m not.”

As Dean stuttered to a halt Castiel frowned leaning forward. His eye turned down and he cocked his head, “You don’t think you deserve to be happy?”

“Not at someone else’s expense.”

Gently Castiel raised a hand turning Dean’s face until both men stood toe to toe, “It’s not a great burden to me, Dean. Ash was right; you’re not the only one who was keeping a secret.”

There was a half strangled cough from behind them and both men jumped. Quickly Dean turned noting his father’s red face, and nervous shuffling. “Uh, your Ma wants you both in for supper.”

“Dad,” Dean said with a guilty glance at the smaller figure beside him. Castiel blushed as well. John sighed.

“Now… boy and that means the both of you.”

Admitting defeat Dean shoved Castiel ahead of him and the two men followed the Winchester patriarch back into the house. Castiel was amazed at the sight. A huge trestle table was set it in the room immediately to the right of the kitchen. And at least sixteen chairs were arranged neatly around it with two larger chairs at either end.

Of course John settled the chair at the head of the table. And Dean settled to the right of him. Figuratively and literally the senior Winchester’s right hand man. At first Castiel thought he might be relegated to some smaller assembly in the kitchen where the hired hands were fed, but looking at the gathered faces around the table he could see that every member of the Winchester clan, including the hired help was settled in for the evening meal. That gave him a warm feeling; there were no second class citizens at this table. Castiel was waved into a chair just to the right of the elder Winchester brother, a spouse’s seat he noted with some embarrassment, looking around the room.

On John’s left was seated a tall, young man with honey colored hair, a bit on the shaggy side and a beautiful young woman who looked amazingly like Mary Winchester. When she rose briefly his eyes widened because she was more than obviously pregnant. The thought made him blush when he considered his own place here in this assemblage, his own secret that had driven him to the church to begin with. A little quirk of nature that afflicted only a few men that, at least, Dean would soon come to know. And the thought of how Dean Winchester might come to discover this little bit of Castiel’s secret nature made the blush in his cheeks deepen even more. 

Looking down the table the priest glanced at each person there. Some of them he knew Ash and Adam, of course, and Victor Hendricksen. The girl seated beside the chief trail hand, Cassie. Castiel knew she was a nurse at the doctor’s office in town. He had no idea that she was romantically inclined toward the tall, obviously well educated, cowboy, but he was learning more all the time.

Midway down the table was another middle-aged woman. She was tall, tough looking with long hair and sparkling brown eyes, besides her was the man he recognized from the yard, Bobby Singer, the iron worker and weapons-smith. From what the others had said in the wagon he assumed that she was Ellen Harvelle, the cook. Beside her was a young woman with blonde hair, Jo. Ash’s girl friend or so he said. Castiel would reserve his judgment on that until he actually spoke to the young women in question. 

Further down the table flanking Mary Winchester sat two of the young women who had been ‘employees’ of Meg Masters at the Chimes. Both girls however they were not the kind who’d worn sparkles and feathers and little else. They were clean, fresh faced and plainly dressed, and seemed to fit in well with the no nonsense lady of the house. The priest was familiar with one of the two from seeing her at Sunday services although Father Zachariah had never failed to preach long a hard about the flames of perdition and sins of the flesh whenever he noticed her there, Castiel believed her name was Madison. The other woman was older with long dark hair and a wide knowing smile and Adam had called her Pammy. To which she had smacked him soundly on the head so Castiel presumed that her name was Pamela.

To her right was an elderly man with dark skin and graying hair. Rufus Turner, the priest knew by reputation and by sight. He was a regular at the church as well, and the priest had heard many rumors regarding the man. Not the least that Rufus had been, in his younger days, a gun-slinger. And even now his hands were firm and steady as he passed plates in serene silence. Castiel wasn’t sure just what he did in terms of the gang, and he was a bit frightened to ask, yet Rufus seemed like a kind man. Not the grandfatherly type but a trustworthy soul.

&&&&&

The meal was long over and the women had gathered in the kitchen gossiping over the, not small, task of cleaning the dishes and preparing for breakfast the next day. The smell of cinnamon rolls and fresh baked bread permeated the air and Castiel settled on the porch basking in the last fading rays of sunlight pouring over the mountaintop.

A sudden rush of air followed by the warmth of a body close to his cause the priest to startle. He turned eyes wide to see Dean standing close behind him, “Whacha thinkin’ on, Cas?”

Castiel sighed smiling, Ash and Adam had called him that, and the priest was sure the nickname had originated with the man standing beside him. 

“Regret gettin’ talked into this?” Dean asked and Castiel could hear the faintest bit to trepidation in his voice although the slightly taller man looked smug and cocky as always. Castiel let him stew in his uncertainty just a bit longer, but not long enough to be cruel.

“No, I have learned to live my life without regret. It doesn’t accomplish anything. I am glad that I came here, Dean.”

“Good,” Dean said sliding in just a little closer to the smaller man’s side. “I’m glad you came here too, Cas.”  
&&&&&

The table had long ago been cleared and the kitchen clean, the bread was rising over the embers of the fire on the old cast iron stove ready to be put in at first light for breakfast the next day. And Castiel was sitting on the back porch of the huge old wooden beamed farmhouse with a china cup of Ellen Harvelle's good coffee clutched In his hands. 

Dean had sat with him for a good while but there was work to do even when the day was winding down. The former-priest, as Castiel was beginning to think of himself had talked with the elder Winchester brother quietly, and was relieved to think that he had not made the worst mistake of his life in coming with the Winchester gang to the high country hideout. Especially since storm clouds were gathering on the horizon and with the drop in temperature Cas, as he was also beginning to think of himself, was sure that it would snow something during the night.

One could accuse John Winchester of many things, and Castiel had heard a multitude of them from Father Zachariah, but stupidity had never been one of them. The outlaw leader knew that the roads up to the hideout would be impassable for much of the winter. And a look at the kitchen pantry and the storage rooms in the outbuildings made Castiel certain that the gang was more than ready to hunker down for the winter months without budging. 

There were footsteps and a rush of air behind him causing the former priest to startle. A deep rumbling laugh sounded in his ear and Castiel turned shooting Dean a glare. But the elder Winchester son merely smirked settling on the porch swing beside the other man.

“Regret your decision to throw in with a bunch of mangy outlaws?”

Cocking his head Castiel sighed, “Considering the sleeping arrangements I sincerely hope that you don’t have mange.”

Dean flushed and it was so endearing that Castiel thought his heart might leap out of his chest. Clearing his throat the outlaw said quietly, “Look Cas…I know that Ash and Adam rushed you into this. And it must be a whole lot for you to have to think about. We got plenty of room in this place I’m sure my Ma can put you up somewhere alone, get you settled in proper.”

Castiel took a deep breath, “It is new for me. I hope that doesn’t bother you. I need you to know that I took my vows at fifteen. I had reasons for going into the church, so this is all really…unfamiliar.”

Dean sat back looking stunned, “Uh you mean that you never…nothing? Have you ever…you know…touched yourself?”

Blushing furiously Castiel rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I never had occasion.”

“Wow, that’s just…” Words failed him and Dean blinked. “It’s okay, we can go real slowly.”

Rising to his feet Dean reached out a hand and helped the other man up. Castiel rose smoothly blushing at the look on his soon to be lover’s face. Dean’s features were soft, eyes warm green and his lips slightly parted in a half-there smile. Castiel felt a shiver run down his spine. Taking a deep breath he followed the other man to the stairs.

The room he was lead to was small, not much more than a large bed covered in with a handmade quilt and several woolen blankets. There were two small night table flanking the bed and a large six drawer dresser and an armoire in the corner. Dean nodded to a chest at the foot of the bed, and Castiel sat.

“I’ll clear some space out in the dresser and armoire for your clothes, although it looks like you didn’t bring much. That’s okay though, there’s a bunch of Sammy and my old things in the attic. I’ll fetch some boxes down tomorrow and we’ll get you set up.”

Castiel sighed, “Dean I understand that this is new to you also.”

Rubbing a hand over his face the other man grinned, “Cas, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m pretty tuckered in. I thought about going up to bed.”

Blushing furiously the former priest took Dean’s hand, “I’ll come up with you, if that’s okay.”

The room that Dean led him to was larger than Castiel had ever occupied himself, bigger than the room he had shared with his older brothers in his almost forgotten parent’s home, and certainly bigger than the simple cell he had lived in at the church. 

There was a cozy well lived in air to the room, and Castiel could imagine the cowboy growing up here. Spending long winter months in this place hidden away from the men who would do him harm, would harm his family. The former priest felt a deep abiding joy that maybe he, too, would find a home here with these people, with this man. Perhaps…he paused perhaps even with children of his own, if Dean accepted Castiel for who he was.

Casting a sideways glance at the smaller man Dean began slipping his heavy outer layers off, the sheepskin line coat, heavy plaid flannel shirt even the linen undershirt. Smiling at Castiel Dean settled on the bed with his back turned, ostensibly to pull off his boots but more likely to give the other man some small amount of privacy. 

Taking a deep breath the former priest settled on the other side of the huge four poster bed then began unbuttoning the black cotton shirt he wore. The cloth slipped out of his trembling fingers and Castiel took a deep breath. Finally he managed to get his trousers unfastened but sighed when he realized that he needed to remove his shoes as well. Bending down Castiel untied the heavy leather brogans then slipped then aside toeing off his socks.

When Castiel rose turning towards the bed Dean was snuggled under the quilt and blankets. He waggled his eyebrows at the other man and the former priest felt a rush of blood warming his cheeks. Dropping his trousers Castiel hurriedly jumped into the bed. Dean actually laughed and Castiel felt the tension in shoulders loosening. 

Turning Dean slid an arm casually under the smaller man’s shoulders, “Whatever we do Cas, you have to want it. It won’t be any good for me if you’re not in this all the way. I know I said it before Ash and Adam, well; they’re good kids but not the sharpest tools in the shed. They may have thought they were replacing Jimmy, but I want you to remember Cas…that Jimmy was just replacing you.

Shifting Dean pulled the other man into his arms, stroking down the former priest’s shoulder to the elbow. Castiel all but purred rolling into the touch and the cowboy wondered if he was just naturally this responsive or if he was touched starved. Considering the solitary life he had lead as a priest, and moreover considering the grim and joyless existence that Father Zachariah must have imposed onto the younger priest Dean was more than happy to indulge his soon to be lover in any way he could.

Stroking his hand up Castiel’s arm Dean brushed a thumb over his lips, Cas parted them nipping at the wandering digit. Dean chuckled, low and dirty, and the other man found himself shivering. Slipping his fingers under Castiel’s chin Dean lifted his head dipping down to brush a quick, light kiss on his mouth.  
Gasping Castiel opened to the other man and Dean dove in with the desperation of a starving man feasting on a banquet for the first time in his life.

There was a brief shuffling as the two men vied for position but they finally settled with Dean lying above Castiel. Gently he slipped a knee between the smaller man’s thighs settling firmly. Castiel grunted when his erection slid against Dean’s and both men groaned loudly. 

Brushing his hand down the pale expanse of skin Dean stroked Castiel’s cock briefly then reached further down, behind his balls to the tightly furled ring of muscle guarding his entrance. His fingertips slipped on a slick wet and Dean pulled back surprised.

Suddenly the former priest tried to turn away, face going crimson. Glancing at Dean he pulled the covers up to his chin, but Dean quickly grasped his arm. 

“It’s okay,” Dean whispered. “I just didn’t realize that you were…like that…a breeder, I mean.”

“It’s why I went into the church. I was afraid my oldest brother would marry me off like he did my brother Gabriel. He was like this too, but he couldn’t have children and his partner killed him.” Castiel sighed, “My sister Anna was afraid that Michael would send me away too. So I ran away and took my vows at fifteen. I’ve been in the service of God since.”

“So you really are a virgin, then. Completely.”

Dean leaned forward kissing Castiel gently, “I’ll be careful.”

“Careful?” Castiel asked pensively. Dean chuckled and the smaller man blushed.

“I’ll make sure to pull out just to be certain that you don’t get pregnant, at least right away.”

Leaning down Dean kissed the other man gently then nudged Castiel’s thighs part. Castiel gasped, and then moaned low and dirty when the cowboy slid inside him. Closing his eyes Dean muttered quietly into Castiel’s ears. The former priest thought it might have been a prayer; he caught the words God among the whispered words. And to Castiel it was a prayer, thanks and a benediction. And he worshiped Dean with his body.

&&&&&&&

Castiel wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when a sudden shifting in the bed beside him brought the former priest to full awareness. He grunted as Dean rolled away from him the sudden loss of body heat letting cold air of the bedroom pool uncomfortably around his bare skin. Remembering why he was naked brought a flush of blood to Castiel’s cheeks and he scrabbled the blankets around his shoulders. Dean caught the movement and chuckled causing the smaller man to blush even more. Leaning in the cowboy brushed a quick kiss over Castiel’s slightly parted lips, “Ain’t no going back now Cas. I seen it all and I liked it. Don’t think you’re getting’ outta this now.”

Smiling Castiel leaned into the touch, “I don’t want to, but what’s wrong? Where are you going?”

“I heard something in the courtyard. One of the boys is standing watch at the main gate. I think I heard my pa yelling.”

“Well, when John Winchester yells, everybody listens,” Castiel said leaning over the side of the bed for his discarded underwear and trousers.

“Ain’t it the truth,” Dean grunted pulling on his pants and boots. Grabbing a shirt from the chair where he had hung it earlier Dean reached into the corner by the door pulling out a shotgun. “You stay here, okay?”

Now Castiel frowned. “I can handle a gun, Dean. I may not be a crack shot like you or a gun-slinger like Rufus, but I can hold my own.”

“It may come to that, but you stay in the house until we’re sure what’s going on.”

In spite of Dean’s best efforts Castiel dressed and followed him into the hall. People were emerging from doorways all along the hallway leading to the staircase down to the main rooms of the huge house. Sam appeared at the door to Dean and, by default, Castiel’s room and the former priest wished that he had had more time to interact with the younger Winchester brother before now, when something dire was happening.

Sam’s wife Jessica waddled into the hall, her eight-month pregnant belly barely slowing her progress. Wrapping a thick woolen shawl around her shoulders she quickly followed the tall form of her husband to the staircase. “Dean, your Pa already roused Sam up and said for you boys to get down to the front room. He sent Rufus on out to the courtyard to see what Andy is hollering about. Bobby and Victor are rounding up all the boys and your Ma is handing out the guns. I’ll be loading rifles with her.”

Dean flinched, “Okay, Sam come with me. Cas, you stay with the women.”

“Dean, I will not be consigned to the back. I can fight.” 

Dean seemed to fold under the smaller man’s intense blue gaze. Squaring his shoulder he took the other man by the arm, pulling him into a corner. “I’d feel better if someone was watching my Ma, Jess, Miss Ellen and the girls. The women folk need a man to guard ‘em. I want that man to be you.”

When they got downstairs Mary Winchester and Ellen Harvelle were loading rifles and revolvers as fast as they could, handing them out to the gathered men milling around the front entry-way to the house. Castiel saw both Ash and Adam strapping a leather holster onto their bodies, checking the Colt revolvers and thumbing the safety catch one. Then Mary tossed Ash a Winchester rifle and he headed to the door. Adam took up a shot gun following the other man out into the fray.

The sound of gun fire seemed extraordinarily loud now that the former priest was standing the hall next to the large front door. He could see vague shadows of men running, recognized Victor Hendricksen’s broad shoulders and gray Stetson standing guard at the outer edge of the front porch. Victor paused firing only long enough for Ash and Adam to make a break for the shelter of the barn before covering their mad dash across the courtyard with a steady stream of gun fire.

Mary pulled a huge Colt .45 out of the door and headed out onto the porch. Castiel jumped after her grasping the woman gently by the elbow, “Dean left me here to protect you.”

Suddenly the priest found himself caught in a warm hazel gaze as clear and bright as his lover’s. And Mary just laughed. Ellen Harvelle joined her shotgun leveled at one shoulder. Both women cast a sideways glance at the former priest and Castiel was sure that they were just humoring him when Mary said, “Why you are protecting use, sweetie.”

Jess appeared beside them carrying a large box of ammunition. She thrust the box at Castiel and motioned him to the door, “Stand behind Mary and Ellen, when they run out of ammo they’ll pass their gun back to you and pick up another one. You just keep loading the guns.”

Castiel balked, “I should have a gun too.”

When all three women stared hard at him Cas blushed from the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair, “I can shoot straight, as long as I don’t have to shoot too far!”

Smiling Mary handed a rifle to the former priest as she and Ellen moved out onto the porch. John had just emptied his revolver and Mary hurriedly thrust a second gun at him while quickly taking the empty weapon. 

From his vantage point on the porch Castiel could see the Winchester brother with Victor and Ash behind the barn. Adam was on the roof all where firing at Marshal Azazel and the Pinkerton agent he had met in the town a few days ago.

Along with the two men there were various no-account, low-life, good for nothing men who hung around town generally being a nuisance. Although by joining the posse they had graduated from no-accounts to outlaws. Castiel was sure that the Sheriff of Sutter Hollow had nothing to do with these men. However, he had heard some muttering that Mr. Crowley, the railroad owner, might have brought some hire guns in the clear out the gang. 

Suddenly Castiel caught sight of Dean making a break from his position behind the wall at the end of the porch heading across the driveway toward the outbuildings. Victor rose snapping off a rapid series of shots to cover Dean’s wild dash but one of the men behind the wagons stood up anyway training his gun on the elder Winchester brother.

Cussing a blue steak John jumped up bringing his rifle to bear on the posse, snapping off a shot. The man jerked once falling back and his friend pulled him behind the wagon. Two other men rose up bringing their guns up and firing. John jumped back and Mary took a step forward firing the Colt she was holding. The men ducked and covered.

As Mary turned shoving the Colt at John and taking the spent rifle Azazel stood up. The sound of the gun shot rolled like thunder and Mary took one step back looking down, eyes wide as a crimson stain blossomed on the front of her white night gown. 

John’s mouth fell open and Castiel grabbed the woman before she could fall to the ground. But Bobby was suddenly beside him, catching Mary’s limp form in his arms, lifting her up. Ellen shoved the door to the house open screaming for the girls inside to clear the big, oak block table in the kitchen.

As soon as the door slammed behind Castiel found himself swept up in the whirlwind of activity. Madison and Sarah were clearing the dished and bowels of bread and fruit off the top of the oak-topped table. Jessica appeared from the pantry with a huge wicker basket that held all the doctor supplies and medicine bottles.

Bobby gently laid Mary’s still form on the table and Ellen hurriedly washed her hands with hot water from the stove and Lavender oil from a small brown bottle. Jessica took the bottle of oil and offered the older woman a clean white dish towel.

John was pacing the end of the room like a caged tiger and Ellen looked up catching Castiel’s eyes, “Cas you and John best be out on the porch before them boys from the posse try to storm the place.” John looked like he wanted to argue but Ellen face broached no disagreement.

Swallowing hard the former priest took John by the arm. For a minute he thought he might be punched in the face for his trouble but the Winchester patriarch surrendered with a minimum of cussing and frowning. Both men and Bobby headed for the door.

John put his shoulder to the door, and the three of them spilled out onto the porch to see four dead men in the yard and the Marshal holding a gun on Dean. John pulled to a halt, “You don’t wanna point that gun at my boy, friend.”

Azazel turned hazel eyes going warm yellow in the afternoon sun, “I ain’t no friend of yours, Winchester. If I don’t get to my horse your boy here is a dead man.”

Suddenly the marshal caught sight of Castiel standing on the porch behind John Winchester. Marshal Azazel snickered then tipped his hat, “Good day, padre. Why don’t you just step this way now and fetch my horse. She’s that big bay mare right beside the wagon yonder.”

Glancing at the elder Winchester brother Castiel nodded. Taking a deep breath he walked slowly and carefully to the huge horse. The mare flattened her ears a little when he reached out and grabbed her bridle but she didn’t try to bite him. For that Castiel was grateful.

Tugging he got the mare walking and they both made it back to the marshal. The Pinkerton Agent Alistair Black was seated in the saddle of his own horse staring at Dean as if looks could kill. Of course Dean was staring right back, hatred written in every line of his face. 

Once the marshal had swung up into the saddle the former priest thought he would be pushed away or perhaps even shot. What he was not expecting was to be grasped by the arm and hauled bodily across the mare withers in front of the marshal.

With a snap of his gloved hand against the mare’s side Castiel found himself swept along at a dizzying speed. He closed his eyes praying, not to the God he had always served, but to Dean Winchester.

Once the marshal and Agent Black were gone Dean jumped onto the porch following his father inside. The rest of the Winchester gang all ran for the door to the house.

Ellen grabbed John by the arms, and it was difficult to tell who was holding who up. With a sigh the women patted john’s arm “it was a clean through and through shot. But in the shoulder. Mary’s doing okay. She’s a tough woman and she’ll pull through.”

“Be that as it may, Ellen, no man comes into my home and hurts me or mine. Not any one of you. You all threw in you lot with me and I aim to see that we are all safe. “

Dean nodded, “What are you gonna do, Pa?”

“I’m going after that bastard Azazel. And I ain’t gonna stop until he’s dead. Fetch my Colt, Sam.”

Sam nodded, “I’m going with you.”

John shook his head, “Sam…I can’t ask you to do that. Jessica needs you here, what with the baby and all.”

“If he came after us this time do you think he’ll stop? Jess is only safe if everybody knows we take care of our folks.”

Dean nodded, “And that bastard has Cas. Ain’t no way that’s happen’ on my watch.”

Smiling John motioned toward the barn, “Saddle up boys, we’re going to town.”

Victor followed Sam and Dean to the door but John caught him by the arm, “Vick, you don’t have…”

Smiling the other man clapped him on the shoulder, “John you called me friend when a lot of white men wouldn’t have. You helped me take care of my folks and sisters when a lot of white me thought they were nothin’ but another man’s property. Don’t think you’re getting’ outta here without me.”

“Fair enough,” John replied with a smile.

 

&&&&&&&

There was thunder on John Winchester’s face as he rode into Sutter’s Hollow. John spurred his horse forward with a grim smile on his lips. The fact that Mary was not dead, had calmed him only a little, and he still had that look like he wanted to kill the first person he ran across on his face. Dean was terrified, for his mother’s life, for his father’s sanity and for his lover, so soon found and now taken. Sam followed along beside his brother and father, ever reliable helper and back=up. No one, no one at all touched one Winchester without having to deal with all of them. And lastly Victor followed behind …riding hard, not a Winchester by birth, but in heart.

The main road into town was straggly quiet at this time of the day. And Dean wondered if the townspeople had not already heard of the attack at the Winchester compound, had not seen the marshal and the Pinkerton man dragging Castiel to Crowley’s offices.

Sheriff Deacon was sitting on the porch in front of the jail building when the four men road past. He must have known why they were in town, might have even known that they intended to kill the marshal and agent, maybe even Crowley if they had too. Yet he didn’t seemed inclined to roust himself from the rocking chair he occupied, even nodding pleasantly at them as they went past. 

&&&&&&&

Castiel was sitting in a fine red velvet chair in the dining car of the number Nineteen Union Pacific railroad. Across from him was the two men who had lead the raid on the Winchester gang’s compound earlier that day.

Marshal Azazel was hunched over the gleaming oak bar glass of whiskey in his hand. The Pinkerton agent, Alistair Black was pacing at the far end of the room, his lean ratty features twisted with rage. The raid this morning had been his idea and two of his fellow agents were now laying stone cold dead on the Winchester grounds. He cast a long glance at the marshal.

“This morning was very sloppy business, marshal. Very sloppy indeed.”

Azazel sneered at him. “It served its purpose. We drove John Winchester out of his hidey-hole exactly like you wanted.”

“Only because you shot his wife. There is nothing more dangerous than a man with a vendetta. If Mary Winchester dies John is will be as dangerous as a corner rat.”

“That’s why I grabbed the padre here. Everybody and his brother knows that Dean Winchester fancies himself a little slice of angel food cake. And the padre is insurance that none of the Winchesters do anything foolish.”

The former priest settled back in the chair glancing at the tall blonde man seated beside the marshal and Crowley. Castiel recognized the man from grainy sepia colored tin-type photographs on Wanted posters at the Post Office and the train station. Nick “Kid Lucifer” Morningstar was as hard as nails. His nickname well-earned for all the atrocities he had committed. He might as well be the devil himself.

Crowley glanced out the window a slow smile cross his face, “Look who just rode into town. Show time, boys.”

Without a word the marshal, the Pinkerton agent and the gun fighter headed into the street. The three men were standing in a line as the Winchesters and Victor pulled to a halt just at the end of the train station platform. Moving to the side John dropped the reins on his horse and the big gelding whickered softly. Patting the horse side the Winchester patriarch stepped forward, “Azazel, this has gone on long enough. You shot my Mary and the only reason I’m giving you the chance to stand up like a man and not the snake you are is ‘cause she ain’t dead.”

The marshal shrugged, “We’ll see what you got, Winchester.”

Whirling quickly he pulled the gun from the holster at his hip snapping off a shot. The bullet went wild ricocheting off the sign above the Crazy Horse Saloon, and John ducked drawing his own revolver. Dean and Sam fanned out on either side of their father with Victor falling in line just a pace in front of the elder Winchester brother.

Dean fired his own sidearm and Sam ran up beside his brother. Victor got a series of rapid-fire shots at the Pinkerton agent catching Alistair in the shoulder then the chest. A red stain spread across his shirt and the man gasped once, gun dropping from his cold, dead fingers. He hit the ground face-first and didn’t move.

Dean turned slightly smirking at the other man, “So I guess I owe you one.”

Victor smiled in return, “You owe me ‘bout a hundred, Dean.”

John stepped forward firing again, “Vick, Dean…they’re slingin’ lead like it’s raining and you two are gabbing like a couple old maids at a quilting party. Less talkin’ and more shootin’.”

“Yes, sir, boss.” Both younger men hissed at the same time. John shot them both a glare. Just as she turned marshal Azazel stood up firing. John jerked around once, a bright spot of red growing on the sleeve of his shirt. Dean gasped, Pa!”  
His face set as hard as steel the elder Winchester brother caught his father as John staggered back, colt dropping from his trembling hand. With a snarl Dean dropped his own gun grabbing up his father’s .45 jumping forward. 

Azazel stood a smirk spreading over his features, “Looks like you’re out for the count Johnny-boy!”

Chuckling he raised his gun pulling the trigger. But the weapon bucked silent and empty in his hand. Dean grinned raising the Colt and firing once. The marshal jerked once as the shot hit him square in the forehead and he slumped to the ground.

Dean bent down grasping his father gently by the arm, but John rolled away waving his son off, “I’m okay. Just worry about that gun-slinger of Crowley’s.”

Sam moved beside his brother, “Don’t worry about him, Dad. I got him. Dean you just go get Cas.”

Dean nodded, running for the door to the car of the train he had seen the three men leaving. Sam stepped up smiling at the gun-slinger but Morningstar just tipped his hat, “Well, Sammy-boy I’ve been waiting for you.”

Cocking his head Sam shrugged, “Kid Lucifer…one of the slimiest, low-life bastards I’ve ever had the displeasure to meet.”

Nick grinned even wider, “You’re pretty self-righteous for a man who robs trains and banks for a living, Winchester.”

“We look at it as more of a wealth re-distribution program, Lucifer. We only take back what the train barons and the bankers rob for honest law abiding folks in the first place.”

Quick as lightening Kid Lucifer whirled drawing his gun. He snapped off a quick shot but Sam was quicker still. You didn’t grow up with John Winchester to slow on the draw. The sound of thunder roared in the small enclosed alley and when the dust cleared Sam Winchester was standing tall as Nick clasped a hand to his belly. Blood pooled over his fingers. Grunting Nick fell to the ground his gun skittering over the hard packed earth. 

“Well, finish it Sammy or you gonna leave me to gut shot and dying slow.”

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do, Lucifer.”

“What about a little compassion, Winchester?” Nick called out as he watched the younger Winchester brother walk away. Sam turned. Carefully he walked back down the alley picking up Kid Lucifer’s own gun. With a quick practiced hand Sam opened the chamber dumping all the shells into one large palm. Casting a quick glance at the fallen gun-slinger Sam carefully slid one round into the revolver and handed it back to the other man.

“Considering all the innocent souls you laid to waste over the years Lucifer, consider this a mercy.”

&&&&&&&

The door to the dining car was half opened when Dean clambered up the short flight of wrought-iron stairs onto the small landing. He could hear the rich British accent of the railroad tycoon as he talked to Castiel. Leaning in the outlaw looked around the corner of the door to the former priest sitting stiffly in a chair and Crowley pacing agitatedly around the small room.

Crowley turned smiling an oily-looking small at the younger man, “Now Cas…that is what he calls you, yes?”

“I prefer if you called me Castiel,” the former priest snapped. “Only Dean calls me Cas.”

Smiling Crowley bowed gallantly, “As you wish, Castiel. You’re a very beautiful person. I always believed that you were wasted in the priesthood. And a breeder too. You’d be a prize. I’m a very wealthy man…even with all the thieving the Winchesters do. I can make life good for you.”

“I’d rather be dead than deal with you, Crowley.” Castiel snapped shoving the smaller man away. Dean felt his heart swell with pride. Stepping around the corner of the door Dean waved his father’s Colt .45 in Crowley’s face.

“You’re damned lucky you didn’t lay your slimy, snake-oil sellin’ hands on him, Crowley. Now step aside.”

When both men got to the alley entrance Sheriff Deacon was surveying the damage. The three bodies had already been claimed by the funeral parlor and the director was measuring away with his tape chattering about coffins and photographs. 

When Dean rounded the alley toward the post they had tied off their horse he was glad to see his father seated in the saddle head held high. Victor had fashioned a good field dressing over the wound on John’s shoulder and although the older man was pale he was still steady in the saddle.

Dean swung up onto his horse then reached down a hand to Castiel. Cas smiled swinging up behind the outlaw and wrapping his arms firmly around the other man’s waist. As Dean urged the black horse into a fast trot with a whispered, “Giddyup, impala” Castiel leaned his cheek against his leather clad back sighing.

The four horses and their riders headed out of town and back along the trail to high country.

&&&&&&&

In the four months since Castiel had first come to the Winchester gang’s hide out the long cold winter had melted into a glorious spring. The creeks were running high with all the water from the early spring thaw and everywhere around the house was acres of lush green grass. 

The vegetable garden was green and healthy promising food for long into the sultry summer, and the fruit trees were heavy with ripening apples and pears. 

The house was buzzing with excitement it seems as if Jessica was in labor. Sam was hustled down the stairs early that morning as skittish as a newborn colt. All jangling limbs and stuttering. Finally Mary had calmed him down enough to figure out what was wrong. So the kettle had been put on to boil for hot water and the men were consigned to the front room and the dining table. John had groused long and hard about taking his coffee away from the warm smells of the kitchen until Mary had uttered the magic words “Grand child.”

Now Castiel and Dean were sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch listening to the hustle in the house as Jessica gave birth to her and Sam’s child. Castiel was nervous, pacing then sitting and Dean kept trying to pull the smaller man into his lap, but Cas couldn’t settle. 

Suddenly he retched leaning over the side of the porch bringing up what little he had managed to eat that morning. Dean leaned over rubbing Castiel’s back gently, “You okay, Cas? I would say that all the excitement was getting to you but truthfully you been sick three out of the past four mornings. And most of the last two weeks as well. Maybe Ellen should have a look at you or Cassie.”

Castiel waved him away, “Oh no they're busy with Jess and the delivery…”

Suddenly the sound of a baby wailing split the air and both men jumped up from their seats. Dean grinned for all he was worth, “Not any more they ain’t. Let’s go take a look at our little niece or nephew.”

Castiel followed Dean up the stairs. There was a small crowd milling around the doorway to Sam and Jessica’s room but suddenly the door burst open and Sam stepped out carrying a tiny blanket wrapped bundle in his arms.

John was pacing at the end of the hall and he whirled trotting up to his younger son. Sam pushed the baby at his father and John gulped. With shaking hands he took the precious bundle. Sam grinned, "Say hello to your granddaughter, Pa.”

John smiled lifting the corner of the blanket and hefting the baby so that everyone in the hall could see, “Oh Sam, she’s beautiful. She’s got Jess’s looks.”

As Mary and Ellen appeared in the hallway Dean stepped forward to see the new arrival. Castiel leaned in but a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he swayed dangerously. Dean caught him. Turning to Ellen with a panicked expression on his face.

Ellen wiped her hands on the towel draped over her shoulder, “Bring him in here. Guess the excitement got to him.”

Dean frowned shaking his head, "Nope he’s been sick for a few weeks now, but he didn’t want to bother you what with the baby coming and all.”

Ellen frowned, “Cas, how long have you been sick?”

“About three weeks, dizzy and I get sick to my stomach most mornings. I just can’t keep anything down until about noon, but sometimes it comes later too.”

Gently she touched his forehead, “No fever. Lift your shirt.”

Castiel balked blushing furiously, “Why?”

“Just do it,” she said. When he finally lifted the hem of his shirt Ellen took in the sight of his slightly swollen puffy nipples. She reached out gently giving one a slight pinch and Castiel jerked watching a droplet of clear fluid pearl at the tip. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Turning she swatted Dean with the towel. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

Dean, John and Sam all turned to stare at Castiel. Then Mary uttered a giggle grabbing him into a tight hug, “Oh Dean…I’m so happy.”

Dean shot her a look that said he clearly thought his mother had lost her mind, “Happy that Cas is sick?”

“No,” she snickered. “Oh Dean, Cas isn’t sick. He’s pregnant. It looks like Sam’s baby won’t have to grow up alone after all!”

Kneeling down Dean took Castiel’s hand in his, “A baby? We’re gonna have a baby?”

“I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to say anything. I’ve seen how enviously you looked at all those little booties and sweaters Cassie knitted all winter.”

With a smile Cassie threw her arms around Castiel’s shoulder, “Well, it’s a good thing I got all that practice in. Looks like I’m gonna be knitting a lot more.”

Later in the evening, after dinner John and Mary stood on the porch watching Ash and Adam harnessing the horses for the buckboard. The time had come to take the girls back into town although if Adam’s forlorn face was anything to go by Madison would be spending a lot more time on the ranch. 

Jessica was settled in one of the rocking chairs on the porch wrapped in a shawl nursing the baby. And across the way John could see Dean and Castiel sitting in the old wooden swing pressed close together. Well, the Winchester clan was growing, first Sam and Jessica’s baby and soon Castiel would blossom, grown rounder with the new little one inside him. Maybe it wasn’t always what John had thought he wanted for his boys, but he was content. 

Mary smiled up at him, “John are you okay. I mean with Dean and Cas. It ain’t exactly what everyone would call a perfect family.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly what everyone would call normal by a long shot. But we got one new grandbaby and one on the way. Yeah, I’m happy.”

As he watched Sam came out of the front door pulling a stool up beside Jessica reaching down to touch the baby’s face with trembling fingers. She smiled at him.

Across the lawn Dean leaned back in the swing putting am arm around Castiel pulling him close. Looking down the elder Winchester brother placed his hand on the smaller man’s belly, pressing his palm down as if searching for the spot that the tiny, child lay snuggled in Castiel’s belly. Cas preened under the attention like a cat, pressing himself close to Dean and they settled back in the late afternoon sun.

To Be Continued in the Sequel High Country…


End file.
